


Consume Me

by azurevolution



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Thomas instead of Maria, affair, loan, say no to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8197363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azurevolution/pseuds/azurevolution
Summary: [That's when Sir Thomas Jefferson walked into my life.]"I know you are a man of honor... I’m so sorry to bother you at home but I don’t know where to go, and I came here all alone…" Alexander watched as the other man stammered and paused before continuing, "My wife is doin’ me wrong; beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me... Suddenly she's up and gone. I don’t have the means to go on."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr post.
> 
> (EDITED ON OCTOBER 13, 2016)

It was a simple knock to his door in the middle of the night.

"Secretary Jefferson," Alexander Hamilton stiffly acknowledged as he opened the door. His hair was messily tied in a ponytail, his clothes were ruffled, and his eye-bags were probably as thick as his nemesis' hair at the moment— today was _not_ his day. The wordsmith studied the Secretary of State, noting the creases and messiness of his signature magenta clothing.

"Secretary Hamilton." Thomas replied, his voice trailing off.

Hamilton raised an eyebrow. It was unlike Jefferson to be at loss for words, similar to himself. The Secretary of Treasury beckoned at the other man to continue.

"I know you are a man of honor... I’m so sorry to bother you at home but I don’t know where to go, and I came here all alone…" Alexander watched as the other man stammered and paused before continuing, "My wife is doin’ me wrong; beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me... Suddenly she's up and gone. I don’t have the means to go on."

A sensation of sympathy bloomed within Hamilton. His lip twitched at how _helpless_ Thomas looked. How utterly _stupid_ he was at the time, Alexander mused, oblivious to the inaccuracy and flaws in Jefferson's words.

"Would you..." the Secretary of Treasury hesitated slightly, "...fancy a loan?" he sincerely offered.

"You're too kind, sir."

 _Sir_.

The mere word was enough to send Alexander's pride off the roof. It comforted him, really. With all the stress pilling up, the wordsmith really needed a break. Thomas gave him a small smile. All doubt seeped out of the strategist's mind.

"If I could, I would walk you home with a loan, dear sir." Hamilton motioned to the dark inside of his residence. "But my wife slumbers, undisturbed. I'd rather not wake her..."

"I live a block away." Jefferson paused ever-so-slightly. "Find the run-down inn. I live beside it."

 _Was he kicked out?_ was all the Secretary of Treasury thought as he nodded. "My presence shall be there by the second hour."

With that, the drafter of the Declaration of Independence slipped away at the cover of the night. Alexander slowly processed the results of his actions, biting his lip as he shut the door. He leaned his back against the door, running a hand through his messy hair. _Had I really offered to help Thomas Jefferson?_ Hamilton scrunched his eyebrows together, _but I'm not one to turn down someone in need. So what if I hate him?_

Sleep deprivation did not appear to be a good idea anymore.

Entering his study, he opened his desk drawer. Alexander paused. Did he really want to do this? His hand hovered above the wad of thirty bucks. Shaking his head, the Caribbean immigrant snatched the money and left his study. Hastily fixing his wild and tangled hair in a vain attempt to look a little decent, he took his green coat and exited the front door.

* * *

"Well, I should head back home," Hamilton stated as he stood up from the couch, "I have work I must do—" As he stood up with his back to the Secretary of State, said man blurted out one word.

"Wait."

Alexander almost let out a gasp of surprise when the taller man wrapped his arms around the wordsmith's shoulders and embraced his neck.

The room's temperature felt scorching, as if Thomas' hands were burning into his skin. Hamilton did let out a surprised squeak when he was suddenly spun around to face the other man. Step by step, Alexander retreated backwards, only to have his back hit the wall. He let out a whimper, suddenly afraid of what was to happen.

"Hamilton."

His name left the Secretary of State's lips in a rugged and husky manner. It sent shivers down Washington's right hand man's small of a back, it sounded rhythmic on the Virginian's mouth— so _right_.

Thomas had both of his hands on either side of the immigrant's body in a flash, the taller of the two looming over and blocking Hamilton's path.

The wordsmith's breathing came in unequal pants, his heart beating erratically. His eyes fluttered close as the other man leaned closer; soon, Alexander was met with Thomas' mouth on his. Alexander felt regret course through him, but when pleasure ran through his spine and he arched his back, he didn't say no. The daring and chaste kiss quickly turned sinful and heated—

And when Jefferson pinched his lips, damn, did it feel so _good_.

A sensation of delightfulness coursed through the wordsmith as he felt hands snake into the tendrils of his hair, grasping the ponytail, and tugging hard. Alexander couldn't deny the moan that left his lips as he hungrily reciprocated the kiss. The Secretary of State intertwined and laced one of his hands with Hamilton's, pinning it against the wall.

The other hand pulled against his scalp so roughly that he pulled back his head from the kiss. A breathy noise left his mouth as he missed the shadow of a smirk passing through the magenta clad-man's face.

When Thomas' lips found his neck, sucking and licking his pulse— "Stay?" he murmured against Alexander's neck. That’s when Hamilton began to pray: _Lord, show me how to say no to this... I don’t know how to say no to this..._

A few moments of silence passed the Jefferson pulled away, an expression of regret, and utter _helplessness_ painting his face. He looked so pathetic that it hurt the Secretary of Treasury's heart. In his mind, he was trying to go, trying to leave, but Alexander couldn't say no.

With a small tilted nod, the deal was done.

The promise, the oath, the vow, the _sin_ was sealed with a kiss. It was so bad but it felt so good.

Soon enough, Hamilton felt himself being lifted up and his back was soon met with soft linen sheets, the cold breeze sent shivers down his spine as the other man straddled him. When the Secretary of State pulled his lips back, a string of saliva connected then. "This is a scand... elous ah—affair—" Alexander was cut off by a string of pants when Thomas pressed against his leg.

"Shhh, you fret too much, _my dear girl_." The affectionate nickname nearly sent the wordsmith into the skies. Desire burned as an inextinguishable flame within Washington's right hand man. As Jefferson slowly and _tantalizingly_ took of his green coat, all the thoughts running in Hamilton's mind were: _Laurens, My Dear Laurens, Laurens—_

All those nights illuminated by the candlelight, the wordsmith remembered it all. As if the freckled man cast a love spell over him. Their sodomitical acts of lust and love burned itself at the back of his mind. As Thomas hovered above him, all Alexander could see was the face of his first love. The ghost of freckles and the mirage of a uniform cloaked the Secretary of Treasury's sight.

It was similar to when the writer would isolate himself from the world to work and work and work. He wouldn't realize his hunger until he collapsed, he wouldn't realize his thirst until he coughed, he wouldn't realize his need for sleep until he dropped down in a comatose-like state.

And he didn't realize his _desire_ until he was touched.

 _Infidelity_.

Nimble and skilled hands reached his waistcoat, unbuttoning and slowly taking them off. "Just for tonight," the taller man whispered. Heat pulsed into the Secretary of State's face as Jefferson's hand reached down to palm him through his pants. The act of frottage sent Alexander into overdrive as he bucked his hips, attempting to gain more friction.

_Sin, sin, this is a sin._

Thomas Jefferson is a wildfire, a dangerous force of destructive nature. It's in his nature to come and leave nothing but ruins. He doesn't discriminate, he just takes and takes.

Soon, he'll consume Hamilton as a whole, leaving nothing but ashes. Alexander got loss in the bliss and pleasure as the Secretary of State worked his magic. He was more than willing to let the taller man consume and engulf him in flames. The symphony of lust rang through the wordsmith's ears as he greedily allowed Jefferson to take him, claim him, _fuck_ him.

 _I'm ruined_.

Hamilton arched his back and gripped the bedsheets, letting out a groan; his garments gone and his body covered by Thomas'. Hands ran over hunger-pang bare skin and fingers twisted strands of hair. All thoughts of law and punishment disappeared into mist within Alexander's mind, leaving nothing but serendipity and self-indulgence.

How selfish was he to allow this? He felt disgusted at himself but, _damn_ , he couldn't stop the noises escaping his mouth.

He almost missed the quiet murmur Jefferson let out.

"Nobody needs to know..."

Nobody does.

**Author's Note:**

> In reality, Alexander let Maria walk home since Eliza was still with him. Hamilton came to Maria's house with the money and... yeah, you get my drift?
> 
> Thomas' wife, Martha, made him promise to never marry again. She died a while before the Reynolds Affair. I'm unsure if people knew of Martha's death, so I assumed it was a quiet and simple death— even more since Hamilton would rather be working himself to death than snoop into his nemesis' life.
> 
> Okay, this is probably so historically inaccurate but, eh, I can not care less right now.
> 
> (I'm such a sinner for writing this during our discussion on religions.)


End file.
